


Apartment Story

by dragonofheaven07



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Apartment AU, M/M, Modeling, Multi, Nudity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:41:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonofheaven07/pseuds/dragonofheaven07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason is barely scraping by to afford his keep at the Wayne Manor apartment complex, in ways the landlord loves to exploit. He meets a new tenant that gives him a new perspective on life, and maybe on love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Moving Day

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Livestream conversation a while ago, dedicated to Abby (ladymangoberry)~

It’s a dog, for the third time this week, that rouses Jason from his slumber that morning. A big one, a stray that his downstairs neighbor had generously taken in. Good for him. Bad for anyone in the building who had sensitive hearing.

He sits up stiffly, wiping away sleep as the sharp scream of police sirens pass by below. The dog goes crazy again, and Jason hears its owner try to quiet it. “Damn it. Damn it all…” he mutters. This was not going to be his day. He could just taste it, that something was going to be perpetually off. And so far, it wasn’t disappointing him.

Jason tumbles out of bed, landing on his hands and knees like a dropped cat. He stumbles to the bathroom sink, splashes cold water on his face. His reflection looks back at him in the mirror: rumpled black hair, sunken blue eyes with dark rings, cracked lips. At least his body was still in satisfactory condition. Satisfactory enough to appease a certain someone, whose mere thought brought dark images to Jason’s mind. Satisfactory for his job. Which he was supposed to be preparing for at that moment.

Oh, hell.

Jason grabs the digital clock, shakes it roughly as the numbers appear. It’s fifteen minutes to eight. He needed to leave a good half-hour ago. “Fucking hell!”

Yep, definitely not his day. Jason throws on the first decent-smelling set of shirt and pants he can find laying around his room, grabs his bag, and high-tails it down the hallway, shutting his door in a harried slam. He practically flies down the stairs, the bag thumping manically against his thigh. He passes a group of movers hauling up a handsome futon, followed by a variety of cardboard boxes into the previously empty 4A. A new tenant? Brilliant, someone else to potentially pester him.

Jason makes a quick detour on the third floor, banging on the wall of Room 3C. “Rise and sunshine, Sleeping Beauty!” he calls. “My computer’s not going to fix itself.”

There’s some muffled moaning, and footsteps from the other side, then the door slowly opens. A boy in ruffled pajamas pants and a red t-shirt stumbles out, rubbing his eyes. He looks a lot younger than his actual age, the short stature and the baby face not helping. “J-Jay? What ’er you doing up so early?” he slurs, yawning.

“Shouldn’t you be in school, Timmy?” Jason asks, a bit suspicious of the blotchy red marks along the side of his neck.

“It’s Saturday, no class until—” he pauses to yawn. “—this afternoon. And, what about you?” Tim leans on the doorframe, folds his arms. “Don’t you have a gig this morning?”

“Soon,” Jason groans. “Anyhoo, Timmy, my man. My laptop. Is it almost ready?”

Tim scratches his head, black bangs shielding his eyes. “Gimme another day, or so. These viruses are giving me migraines. You know, when you get a pop-up, you’re not obligated to click it. And god, don’t even get my started on the pornography files. An entire three megabytes on ‘Busty Asian Babes’? Seriously?”

“Shut up. I need those,” Jason glares. “So it’ll be up and running by tomorrow—” Sharp teeth leap from inside the room, ferociously growling. Tim yanks the dog back by its collar, just before Jason’s hand is bitten. “Ah, Wayne Manor’s new alarm clock! Nice to meet you, too!”

“It’s Krypto, sorry, he’s usually pretty tame,” Tim says, petting the dog’s head, calming it down into a seated position. “Bad boy, no jumping on people!”

“Everything alright out here, Tim?” Another figure strides from the darkness of the apartment, big, muscular, almost twice Tim’s size and height. He’s clad only in boxers with the classic Superman logo. A scowl plasters on his face when he sees that they’re not alone.

Jason grins, “And I get to meet both strays today, how fortunate! You must be that infamous stow-away Timmy’s locked up in here. Hi, I’m Jason,” he holds out his palm.

“Who is this?” the man jabs at him, becoming growingly irritated by Jason’s very presence.

Tim sighs, “Conner, this is Jason. He’s the neighbor from 5B. Jay, this is Conner Kent. Don’t you dare say anything to Bruce.”

“Pft, believe me, the less I have to interact with the ol’ landlord the better,” Jason assures him. “Best be off, then. Ta ta, Timmy, Kon, Krypto!” Jason salutes the three, and then sprints to the staircase.

—

Gotham U offered a wide variety of subjects, including the Arts. The extracurricular classes for them were a popular selling point to the school, and sometimes community members were permitted to join. Figure drawing sessions were open to anyone with the time and a couple donation dollars to spare.

Dick is one such person. It’s his first week in Gotham, his first day off from his new job on the force. Officer Grayson. He can officially address himself as that, and it feels fantastic. All that hard work finally paid off.

He was the only person at the studio for at least ten minutes, not wanting to be running in late. He’d tried his best to memorize the layouts of the city streets, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Babs, a fellow officer, had suggested taking a break here after such a strenuous week, to meet new people, socialize, get another feel for Gotham. Drawing certainly wasn’t his forte, yet he did always want to learn. He had bought a simple sketchbook for the occasion, nothing too fancy, and a set of pencils.

It’s eight-thirty now, and Dick is joined by several more eager students: an elderly couple that start chatting him up excitedly, a few teenagers, a couple twenty-somethings, totaling to about fifteen people. They take seats on weird chairs with easels attached, which the old man explained were called art horses and were ridden as such with the back arched forward and the legs on either side.

The teacher comes in promptly at eight-thirty-five. She greets them warmly, and introduces herself as Ms. ‘Call me Sally’ Eber. Frowning at the clock and muttering a curse under her breath, she tells the class that their model isn’t on time, and to practice however they wish.

Dick finds his book, and is immediately intimidated by the all the eighteen-by-twenty-four newsprint pads, and charcoal paper. The rest of the class begin to draw things around the room, each other. Dick even spies a red-headed girl sketching him.

By the time he actually picks something to tackle, the door flies open and a dark-haired man in a penguin-covered bathrobe races in. Wait, just a bathrobe? “S-Sorry, sorry,” he huffs to Sally. “Traffic, yeah, traffic is a viable excuse, right?” he grins sheepishly.

Sally points to the raised platform in the center of the room, “We’ll discuss this later.” The man climbs the stage, looking around at the familiar and not so familiar faces. “Class, this is Jason, our fashionably late model for today. We’ll start with some one minute gestures, if you’d be so kind.”

“Whatever you say, Ebe.” And Jason drops the robe.

Dick goes bright red, the rest of the students not even fazed by the exposure. A nude modeling session. Oh Christ, he should have done his homework, how embarrassing. He wants to slink out as quickly as he can, turn away from the man baring everything on the stage. But for some strange reason, he can’t. Jason is…pretty fucking hot, that face, that body. It’s pulling him in, and he can’t tell why.

When Dick recovers from the shock, he’s missed three gesture poses. He hastily grabs his sketchbook, outlining the current form of Jason’s body, one arm behind his head, the other trailing his chest. God, his hands were beautiful. Jason changes his stance slightly, straightens up, the fingers lowering, descending his tight stomach.

Torture.

He’s facing Dick’s direction when suddenly their eyes meet, and Dick heats up all over again. Five more poses go by, and they’re just looking at each other, the pencil quivering in Dick’s hand.

“Let’s do a couple longer studies, shall we?” Sally says. “A reclining pose will do.” She motions for him to implement it.

Jason sighs, sitting and elongating his body, legs crossed. He still has his eyes on Dick, blue staring out at sky blue. Dick’s heart is a drum as he puts the tip of the pencil to the paper, and traces Jason’s slouched head and shoulders. To his surprise, Jason’s hand begins to linger down the length of his front, stopping right above his groin. He visibly breathes a little faster, cocks his head, grins lopsidedly.

Fucking torture.

“No moving, sweetheart,” Sally scolds him.

“My bad,” Jason smiles, winking as he returns to the original pose.

—

The first break for the class comes much too soon. Jason ties his robe and stretches. That was…a lot more fun than he’d expected. Of course, there were many women who gave him longing looks, even men sometimes, but that guy in particular was different. It was more curiosity than lust, though the lust was definitely noticeable enough. And he was pretty, like, really naturally pretty.

“Um, hello.”

Jason turns, and speak of the devil. The dude smiles softly, flicking back from the floor to Jason, a blush dusting his cheeks. “I’m Dick, it’s an honor.”

“Likewise,” Jason shakes his hand. “You enjoying the view?”

“Oh, yeah—I mean, no, uh, haha, yes?” The blush deepens. “What I mean is—”

“Do you want to get coffee after?”

“W-What?”

“Coffee. There’s this café about a block from here. I go there every week after work. Do you want to join me?”

“Sure,” Dick nods, as his fellow classmates start to file back in. “That sounds…good.”

“Excellent,” Jason strolls up the stage and his robe piles in a heap on the ground. “Now pay close attention to the details,” he cracks his knuckles.

“I’m just getting warmed up.”


	2. Settling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Dick finally get the chance to talk after their figure drawing class. They get coffee at a local café, and reveal more about themselves and their pasts, leading to a confrontation in the restroom, where Jason does more than strip...

Dick still has a hard time looking Jason in the eye, even after admiring his body for hours.

It was a figure drawing class, he had to get his donation’s worth, after all. Though the sketches he made were more like scribbles with stray pencil marks marring the paper, his mind elsewhere.

The class concludes just before noon. Jason re-laces his robe belt snuggly around his waist and leaps from the platform. He coolly saunters over to Dick, “Well, Dickie, shall we go—”

“Not so fast, hot stuff.” Sally, the teacher, yanks him backward roughly by his belt loop. “I’ll need a word with Todd in private, if I may, Mr. Grayson.”

”I’ll be right there, meet me outside then, ‘kay?” Jason calls, as he’s dragged to the other side of the room.

“Of course,” Dick shrugs, concealing a chuckle. He gathers his bag, idly standing in the hall. Dick watches from the doorway at the exchange, just out of earshot. Sally glares and points angrily, and Jason laughs it off.

It doesn’t take too long, as Jason manages to inch away and out of the room. “Sorry, sorry,” he groans exhaustedly as he unites with Dick. 

“What was that about?” Dick inquires.

“I dunno, she’s pissed about the school funding or something, taking it on me. Sally’s always blowing it over some crap like that.” Jason flaps the robe, gesturing him onward. “C’mon, I gotta change, and the café’s gonna be packed soon.”

“Let’s.” Dick follows closely behind Jason, neglecting to disclose that at his Police Academy he was taught to read lips.

—

The Prince Café was only a block from Gotham U, a typical coffee shop next to a pharmacy and a vintage record store, an ideal hang-out spot. They’re lucky enough that the morning shift, while crowded, is quiet, mostly students engrossed in their laptops. Jason doesn’t even bother to look at the menu board when it’s his turn to order. “Hey, Steph. The usual,” he grins.

“Jay! Long time no see!” the girl at the counter beams. Her blonde hair is tied in a high ponytail, black visor, black t-shirt, black apron. “I missed you, boy! Who’s your friend?” She motions to Dick.

“This is Dick,” Jason introduces. “He’s new to Gotham.”

“Ah! Nice to meet you!” the girl grabs Dick’s hand and gives it a hard shake. “I’m Stephanie, Stephanie Brown, friends call me Steph. I’m an education major. Wow, you have such pretty eyes!”

“Thanks,” Dick nods, smiling, though admittedly a little off-guard.

Jason snickers, “Are you gonna pounce on the poor guy or take his order?” 

“Oh, sorry, Mr. Smarty-Pants,” Steph giggles. “What would you like, Dick? Everything’s good here, girl scout’s honor.”

“Just a medium coffee, please.”

“And his’ll be on my tab.”

“Uh, no, it’s okay…” Dick starts.

“I made you come here, so I’ll pay. No biggie.” Jason slams a five-dollar bill on the counter. “Keep the change, Steph,” he winks.

Steph winks back, opening the register. “You got it! Good seein’ you again! We gotta double it up sometime, catch a flick.”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” Jason rounds the corner, two steaming glass coffee cups already waiting. He hands one to Dick. “Sugar and cream and stuff are over here. I’ll be at that table by the window,” he says.

“You really didn’t have to.”

“Nope. Not listening.” Jason turns his back to him, his finger in his ear.

Dick sighs, pouring in two splendas and a half-and-half. He joins Jason at the table, scooting in his chair. “So.”

“So.” Jason crosses his legs, folds his arms, and takes a sip. They gawk at each other for a bit.

Dick buries into his cup, wondering how to fill the awkwardness. “Nice day.” Smooth, Grayson.

“We’ve been friends since we were kids, grew up together, went to the same shitty Catholic school. Had a stupid little crush that I kept to myself. Then she started dating this guy, Tim, in high school. It didn’t last.” Jason pauses. “And then…I had the balls to go out with her. A week later. Jesus, what was wrong with me? Heh, desperation, I guess. Didn’t last more than a month.” He sighs, takes another swig of his coffee.”The three of us stayed pretty tight, though. Tim’s not a bad guy, kinda dorky. Steph and I are better when sex isn’t involved. Anyway. I’m over her now. So you know.”

Dick blinks. ”Oh.”

“Just ‘oh’?” Jason cocks an eyebrow, frowns. “That’s it? No reaction?”

“Wasn’t expecting a backstory so soon. Besides, I wasn’t going to ask anything about you two.”

“Bet you were thinking it,” Jason smiles coyly. 

“We’ve barely known each other for five hours, and you can tell what I’m thinking?” Dick smirks.

“Yeah, it was totally all over your pretty face,” Jason replies. “Like how into me you were at the figure drawing session.”

A nerve was visibly hit, Dick fighting a blush from creeping his cheeks, but he wasn’t going to back down so easily. “Actually, I was thinking about why someone so young would be modeling at Gotham U of all places. There’s agencies for that, you know. You could be on billboards, if you tried.”

Jason leans in his chair. “I’m not really that young.”

“Bet I’m older than you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Try me.”

“You’re…” Jason hmmms. “You’re nineteen. And three-quarters.”

Dick laughs heartily. “Twenty-four,” he corrects. 

Jason almost sputters his drink. “No fucking way!” he says. “You can’t be three years older than me.”

“So you’re twenty-one? See, you’re still young,” Dick replies. “I’d think someone like you’d want to move out, travel, see the world. Some big thing like that.”

“Judging me when ‘we’ve barely known each other for five hours’? Hypocrite,” Jason grins.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Dick sits his chin in his hand, stirs his coffee. “Still, Gotham isn’t really the place to get discovered.”

“I don’t want to be discovered,” Jason mutters. “Modeling…it pays the rent. But it’s not what I want to do with my life.”

“What do you want to do then?” Dick asks, curious.

“You’d laugh.”

“C’mon.”

“It’s just a dumb dream I’ve had since I was little…’

“Spit it out already, Jason.”

“I…I want to open a bakery.” Jason readies for a reaction, and, for the second time, there is none.

“That’s cool, so you like to cook and stuff? I bet you’re leagues better than I am,” Dick smiles. 

“I’m alright. Cakes, and pastries, and crap, I’m okay with. Bread is my specialty.”

“That’s great! I burn anything I touch in the kitchen. That’s why my diet mostly consists of cereal. No fire involved.”

Jason can’t help it, and erupts into laughter, laying his forehead against the table to hide his face. The sight of him makes Dick begin to laugh as well, and they both end up howling together, until they get shushed by the other customers. “S-Sorry, Dickie,” Jason says after he’s recovered. “Maybe I could give you some lessons.”

“That’d be wonderful,” Dick rubs his sore sides. “I could swing by your place after work.”

“You never really told me: where do you work?” Jason questions.

“I’m an officer for GCPD. Newly instated,” Dick proudly tells him. “Got transferred here from the Haven.”

“Blüdhaven? You grew up in Blüdhaven?”

“No. We moved around the country, never stayed in the same place for long. I…grew up as a performer. In a traveling circus. ’The Flying Graysons’ we used to be called.” He looks to Jason to see if he’s snickering. He’s not. “But my parents…died when I was nine. Mob hit.” Dick looks into the ripples of his cup.

“Oh.” Jason starts to reach to touch Dick’s hand, but retracts it. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” Dick responds. “That moment, I realized I never wanted another kid to go through what I did. I wanted to enforce the law, to punish those who would defy it.” His face heats. “Eh heh, forgive me.”

“No, no, it’s a lot better goal than mine, way more noble,” Jason assures him. “You’ve got that whole heroic, selfless thing going, so it’s perfect.”

“You’re a real nice guy, Jay,” Dick says.

Now it’s Jason’s turn to go red. He pouts, looks to the floor. “S-Shut up.”

—

Over an hour passes and they’re still talking. Silly mundane things, mainly dodging touchy subjects. It was only the first day, for god’s sake.

Dick excuses himself to use the restroom, and Jason directs him where to go. There’s no stalls, just one toilet, sink, and mirror, the bare essentials, probably to save on maintenance.

He shuts the door, does his business without a hitch. Dick’s washing his hands, about to dry off, when a knock on the wooden door makes him jump out of his skin. “Be right out, sir!” he calls. 

“No, I don’t think you will.” There’s a creak of the opening door, heavy footfalls, and a click of the lock. A strong pair of arms snake around Dick’s waist, brush his sides, and he shivers. Lips tickle his ear as they whisper, “I think we’re going to be stuck in here for a quite a while—”

Hands pull Jason’s face into a kiss, a deep one, no restraint. Dick pushes the taller man against the tiled wall, pinning him by his shoulders. They grab at one another, searching for more contact. Dick lets go to breathe, and both of them are gasping. ”Good,” he pants. “‘Cause I’ve been looking forward to it all damn day.”

“Same here.” Jason continues the kiss where they left off, and at the same time unbuttons Dick’s shirt. Dick ventures inside Jason’s shirt, scraping the skin underneath. He manages to lift it over Jason’s head, just as his own shirt falls to the ground in a rumpled heap. Both their chests bare, Jason uses the opportunity to roll over, switching their places, with Dick now the one held to the wall. 

He doesn’t seem to mind, as Dick grips the front of Jason’s jeans, hooking his leg up. ”D-Do you have any…?” he huffs.

“Yeah.” Jason rummages in his back pocket, and his face lights when he uncovers his spare Trojan. “You sure?”

Dick presses their foreheads together, unzipping the younger’s pants. “Believe me, I’m sure.”

The foil package is ripped, and Jason unfurls the sticky condom in his hand. “Never done this before. Out in public,” he confesses.

“Me either,” Dick nods, lowering his own denims. “A cop having sex in a public restroom. Now that’s going to be interesting to charge.”

Jason laughs, the rubber in place. He grinds against Dick’s groin, and he lets out a soft moan. “Last chance to stop.”

Dick smirks, “Don’t you dare.” 

And Jason thrusts into him. He’s slow at first, watching Dick’s response. Dick scratches Jason’s shoulders, his eyes shut, mouth slightly parted. “Good?”

“Uh huh,” Dick smiles weakly. Hot, really hot. “F-Faster, please?”

Jason quickens the pace, and he can feel Dick’s nails piercing his arms. They claw at each other, biting, teasing, their mouthes hungry, and their tongues twisting. All the build up from the figure drawing class is released, the rawness, the passion spilling over. It hasn’t even been a day, and they’re already so in sync, already fucking, and Dick is beautiful, and he’s writhing at Jason’s touch, so so good inside. How they felt about each other didn’t matter in that moment, where they’d go from there, or what they’d do after. It’s sex: wonderful, and quick, and dirty in the men’s restroom. 

Their future together could wait another fifteen minutes. 

—

Dick leaves a decent gap between the time Jason follows him to the streets. It’s around one in the afternoon, the sun high and bright. They walk side-by-side, eyes to the pavement. “That was…really fun,” Dick says shyly.

“Yeah, it was.” Jason adjusts a mismatched button on Dick’s shirt. ”I’ve had less conventional first dates.”

“This was a date?” Dick elbows him in the ribs.

“Oops, you’ve seen through my ruse! My evil plan is ruined!” Jason pretends to cackle.

“So. Do you wanna…meet up again sometime?”

“I…yeah. That’d be cool,” Jason mumbles. “I’m here every weekend.”

“I’m still setting up at my new apartment. My stuff was delayed being delivered, so I’m staying with my friend Barbara for now,” Dick explains. “Where do you live?”

“Oh god, my building. I try to avoid it if I can,” Jason shakes his head. “Not exactly the best company there. We could…oh shit, is that the time?” He stares up at the clock tower. “I am so fucked, I was supposed to be there now.” Jason faces back to Dick. “I…I gotta run, but I’ll see you later, ‘kay?”

“Okay…” Jason surprises him with one last kiss and an anxious grin, before sprinting the opposite direction, nearly missing a speeding car. Dick waves as he disappears from sight, hoping that it wouldn’t be the last time they’d meet.

—

He’s out of breath, clutching his stomach, but Jason makes it to Wayne Manor in twenty minutes flat. He slumps up the stairs to the seventh floor, fiercely holding onto the bannister for dear life, lest he tumble down. A black-haired boy is at the top, swinging his legs. “Father’s been waiting for you,” he giggles. “He’s not pleased.”

Jason wipes sweat from his brow. “Can it Damian,” he growls. He gives two hard knocks to door 7A.

“Come in,” a voice from inside beckons.

How Jason would like to just walk away, never come back. But he had an obligation to fill. The apartment is spacious, so much nicer than the others. The lights are turned off, all except for the one in the bedroom. “Here, Jason.”

Jason obeys, closing the bedroom door behind him. A man sits on the king-sized bed, handsome, mid-thirties, sleek black hair, a dark suit. He holds out his hand. “Let me see you, my boy.”

Jason shuffles closer, and he cringes at the other man’s touch as his fingers gently caress his cheek. “You’re late.”

“Sorry, got held up at work,” Jason murmurs.

“Which one this time? Waiter? Tour guide?”

“…Modeling,” Jason answers.

“Ah, yes, almost forgot about that.” The man smoothes over Jason’s tight chest, making him mewl, his face feel like fire. “Such a nice body you have. It would be a crime to keep it all to yourself. He takes Jason’s chin, their noses almost touching. “It seems that your rent is late yet again.”

“I have it, just need another day or so…”

“I need payment now, Jason.” His voice is dangerously low.

“Please…is there any other way?”

“I think you know better than that, honey.” The man releases him, leans back on the bed. “Now. Strip for me, Jason.”

Jason freezes for half a second as if he had stage-fright, his heart pounding, palms wet. He takes a deep breathe, collects himself, then slowly peels off his shirt. 

“That’s my good boy.”

Jason pads over to him, his pants undone. His eyes close as the man feels the curves and grooves of his body, standing naked before his landlord. “All for you Bruce,” he says, but it’s Dick that he imagines saying it to.

“Just for you.”

—

Exhaustion has taken it’s toll when Jason slinks back to his apartment, slamming the door. He collapses on the beaten sofa, wanting to just curl up, and forget the day, and sleep the world away.

His rent was…taken care of, for the month, at least. He’d have to talk to Tim later about his laptop. And Dick, poor Dick, he’d left him on the street, probably thought he was making up a half-assed excuse to leave. Oh, fuck. He didn’t even give the guy his number. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

A loud knock on his door suddenly clears Jason’s head. At first he thinks to just ignore it, pretend he wasn’t there. But it might be Tim, and Jason didn’t want to leave him hanging. 

“Hello? Anyone here?”

That voice…it couldn’t be.

Jason races to open the door. A man is gesturing a plate of store-bought cookies to him. 

Dick smiles. ”Nice to meet you, neighbor!”

**Author's Note:**

> The teacher's name, Sally Eber, is a combination of two of my favorite college professor's names. I based the art room off one at my school as well, tee hee~


End file.
